A Visitation
by misspeacock
Summary: Takes place during Beat to Quarters, so familiarity with the books as well as the movies might be useful. While onboard the Lydia, Lady Barbara receives a...surprising visitor.


Lady Barbara Wellesley wasn't entirely sure what woke her; certainly not a sound from the ship, for after the number of months spent on the /Lydia/ she had become far too accustomed to the noises of creaking wood and splashing sea. No one had knocked either, she was sure of that, and yet - now her eyes strayed into the rest of the cramped cabin - someone seemed to have /entered/, as she could just make out a figure in the darkness. A moment later a quiet chuckle interrupted her thoughts and made her gasp with surprise.   
  
"You must know that he's madly in love with you," shortly after came the voice of the man who had laughed.   
  
Lady Barbara sat bolt upright. "Who are you?" she asked sharply. "And what are you doing here? The door is locked…"  
  
The figure, whose details she still could not make out in the darkness, shrugged. "I didn't actually come by the door." The pronouncement was made in such a sheepish tone that Barbara found herself relaxing just slightly.  
  
It didn't change her voice. "You still haven't answered my question," she snapped. "Who are you?" The next question came with cool suspicion; Lady Barbara was a well brought up woman, not a child easily swayed by the superstitious fancies of much of the crew, even the officers, she had discovered. And yet the question still came. "/What/ are you?"  
  
She could make out the figure more clearly now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He was young, not yet thirty, she would guess, though it was difficult to tell. His hair was falling in his face, though not so much that she couldn't make out his blue eyes, twinkling with some unknown amusement, even as she detected a sort of soft sadness behind it. He was standing by the doorway, obviously attempting to appear relaxed and sure of himself, yet again Barbara could see that there was more to it. Sheepishness this time, she surmised, as if he was far too aware that he really shouldn't be there.  
  
Again, he chuckled. "Second question's probably the better. 'What are thou that usurp'st this time of night?', perhaps?"   
  
Barbara suddenly realized with a start that the figure was wearing a lieutenant's uniform. "You're not part of this ship's crew." It wasn't a question.  
  
"No."  
  
"Then stop speaking in riddles and tell me who you are for heaven's sake," she demanded, "or I will call a marine."  
  
"All right, all right," the man said quickly. "Archie Kennedy, at your service, your ladyship. Formerly fourth lieutenant of the ship of the line, Renown." His rank was given dryly, as if it darkly amused him.  
  
"And now?" She eyed him suspiciously.  
  
"As you see me," he replied with a small bow.  
  
"The you're-"  
  
But he cut her off. "Dead, yes."   
  
"I see." Barbara narrowed her eyes, as suspicious as ever, and the man - /ghost/, she supposed - looked a bit disappointed.  
  
"You don't believe me?"  
  
"Would you?" Barbara shot back.  
  
Archie considered this. "Probably not," he admitted with a wry smile. "But is any other explanation presenting itself? You said yourself that I was not of the crew, and men don't exactly appear out of nowhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.   
  
For a long time Barbara said nothing, until finally Archie allowed himself a small smile of triumph (though to what purpose, he hated to guess.). "All right, Mr. Kennedy," Lady Barbara said, voice still cool, "explain yourself."  
  
He grinned boyishly, causing Barbara to knock his age down even further. "I was just getting at that when you interrupted me with your…interrogation." Barbara rolled her eyes and he smirked at her, though a moment later his voice was soft. "He's mad about you, ma'am, if I may say, despite his actions earlier.   
  
Barbara felt herself flush at the reference to Hornblower's refusal, which still stung her even this few days later. How dare this man, this...whatever he was, know those events that were so /private/, and how dare he refer to them like that..."You are speaking of the captain, I presume?" she managed coolly through her annoyance.   
  
"Yes." He smiled softly, something about her words obviously amusing him. "The /captain/." Archie sighed and shook his head. "I really do sympathize, ma'am. For all his ingenuity, Horatio can be quite an idiot." At her sharp look, he chuckled quietly, a faraway look coming into his eyes. "Don't worry, I used to tell him so to his face on occasion."  
  
Something about the way he said that with the softness of someone describing the antics of a childhood friend made her annoyance and much of her suspicion fall away, and she couldn't hold back a smile. "You were a friend of his, then?"  
  
"Mm. You could say that." Another soft smile. "We served together years ago as midshipmen and lieutenants, and I assure you, he was as brilliant and brave then as he is now. Well, maybe not /as/...I suppose he must have learned something over the past six years." He chuckled wryly.   
  
"You are fond of him." The words and expression of the man were so familiar that she found herself echoing her earlier words to Bush.  
  
This man's response came much more quickly, though. "Yes, I'm afraid I am. As is Mr. Bush, God help him," he added as if reading Barbara's thoughts. "Though I did make him promise to look after Horatio, and he has tried his best..." When Barbara looked at him curiously, he shook his head with a sad smile. "It's far too long a story to even begin to explain..." He trailed off, eyes on the floor, suddenly lost in his own contemplation.   
  
Barbara watched him for a long moment in silence. That this young man (for she still felt unable to pronounce him a ghost), whose soul seemed to pour out through his expression whether he wanted it to or not, could even now care so much for his old friend...she suddenly found herself wondering if the captain had any idea how many people cared so deeply for him. "But you have yet to say why you are here," she finally said softly, breaking the silence. "Alive or not, I do not imagine that you can come and go at your leisure."   
  
"No." The word was spoken with deep sadness. Kennedy swallowed. "As you must imagine, ma'am, not many people understand Horatio. Some try, and it is hardly their fault that they don't succeed. Horatio seems convinced that the greatest crime in the world is for him to admit that he is human..." At that, Barbara chuckled softly. "But I think...from what I've seen at least...you do."  
  
Lady Barbara blinked, surprised and oddly pleased by the statement. "I would like to think I do," she responded with a small smile. "Though that's quite a compliment coming from an old friend."  
  
Archie looked up at her, but continued as if she hadn't spoken beyond a small smile. "Be patient with him, I beg of you," he pleaded softly, looking straight at her. "He's afraid of becoming close to people, really. Afraid of how it could hurt him, either from loss or from rejection once a person realizes that he isn't only made of steel. But..." another swallow, "he loves you and needs you more than he would ever admit."  
  
Barbara nodded and closed her eyes, letting his words sink in. She had been so sure a week ago that that very idea was true, that something had grown between them, and then it had abruptly been so shattered…She was almost ashamed of how relieved this shadow's words made her feel. But when she opened her eyes to respond, the young man was gone.  
  
The next morning when Lady Barbara awoke, shreds of the conversation were all that was left of the encounter the night before. Within five minutes she had convinced herself that it had been a dream. 


End file.
